Last summer, as did so many people, I joined some dating apps. The lockdown was starting to get old and I was bored. All in all, the experience was awful, but I’m not necessarily mad about it.
At any rate, I matched with a guy from the next town over. For privacy’s sake, we’ll say his name was Jake. Jake was a couple of years older and his photos were all HIGHLY filtered. But I figured I would give him a chance. Another of the lockdown phrases I had participated in was buying a Switch and spending too much time on Mario Kart. Jake and I got talking about Mario Kart and then he asked when I was available. I assumed he was wanting to do a virtual Mario Kart battle. I was wrong. But by the time I figure it out, I’d already confirmed a date and time.
So, Jake picked the restaurant. It had outdoor seating and was about halfway between where we both lived. I was apprehensive about being in a public space during a pandemic, but I overrode those feelings. Another reason for my apprehension was a blossoming UTI that would the next week land me in the hospital for two days. But I swallowed those feelings and got all pretty. I looked damn good, if I do say so myself.
I am neurotically punctual, so I arrived twenty minutes early. At three minutes before we were due to meet, I got a table. Jake didn’t show up for another 10 minutes. Red flag number one. And where I was dressed in an amazing black lace dress, he showed up in a Hawaiian shirt with a superhero t-shirt underneath. Not the best of first impressions.
But, after some initial awkwardness, we got to talking. And then the waiter came with menus. Even though Jake picked out the restaurant, it turns out he hadn’t looked at the menu online first. He was doing a keto diet and we were at a small Italian restaurant. He spent three minutes asking the waiter about their non-existant zoodles. He eventually decided to have a “cheat day” and get an Italian beef sandwich.
While we were waiting for our salads, he was telling me about his teenage daughter. That somehow led to asking me if I wanted children. I said no. And then he came out with this gem: “Well, if we were to have sex, I would definitely get you pregnant.” Let me again stress, I had met this man for the first time ten minutes previous.
What proceeded was a ten minute discussion of his super sperm. He even gave me the scientific term for the condition, which I have forgotten. He talked about his ex’s miscarriages, the patch he has to wear if he wants to have sex, and the testing he went through. Then he observed that this probably wasn’t a great first date topic. Thankfully our salads arrived at that moment so I didn’t have to respond.
If it had ended there, the date may have been salvaged. Although he didn’t look much like his pictures, I hadn’t completely written him off just yet. We talked cameras and ghosts and whatnot. It wasn’t terrible conversation.
But then he went and ruined it. He told me that he could only date beta women because he was too much of an alpha. And his ex had been an alpha and that’s why it hadn’t worked out.
Sigh.
First of all, that is terrible pop psychology. People don’t actually work like that. But, as I have seen pointed out a lot on the internet recently, if you have to tell people you’re an alpha, you’re not. However, the thing that bothered me the most was that this dude has the presumption to assume that I am a beta woman. Again, it’s bullshit psychology. But putting that aside, the utter audacity to tell me that he thinks I’m a beta.
At this point, I was leaned so far back into my chair, my arms crossed in front of me. Like, my body language was screaming “STAY AWAY”, but poor Jake didn’t notice. Because after he had to run back to his car to get money, after I offered to pay and was refused, because the tiny restaurant we were in didn’t accept Apple Pay, he walked me to my car. And he asked for a kiss.
I was so goddamn uncomfortable at this point. I said no but when he pushed, I allowed him to give me a kiss on the cheek, which was probably awful for both of us.
The next day he messaged me to ask for a second date. I very politely told him I didn’t think we were compatible and then blocked him. Because in spite of everything else, if he thought that was a good first date, we obviously weren’t going to work well together.
I was so mad at myself for potentially exposing myself to coronavirus for that nonsense. Now, since I was admitted to the hospital a few days later, I was given a test which, thankfully, came back negative. That man was not worth getting sick for.
At the end of the day, however, it taught me several very important lessons.
1. Dating is still horrible. Having been out of the game for a while hadn’t made a difference.
2. Take a little more time to get to know someone before you agree to meet in person.
3. Never schedule a dinner date for a first date. Do drinks or something that you can walk away from after 15 minutes if it isn’t going well.
It has also given me a wonderful inside joke among my friends. Whenever one of my friends is having a bad day, I can just text “super sperm” to them and it makes them laugh.
What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on? Let me know in the comments!
Stay safe!
KT Byrde Writes 